


A Hole In The Sky

by callmewirkmood



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Gen, Short One Shot, Vignette, movieverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 09:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17242094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmewirkmood/pseuds/callmewirkmood
Summary: A week before Live Aid, Freddie delivers some devastating news.





	A Hole In The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this little piece at the request of a tumblr friend, queensradio. To everyone reading this: happy 2019!

_He's got it._

It is as if a tall, dark figure has stepped up behind Brian and breathed frosty air down his neck. Everything inside him goes cold, icy cold, his lungs draining of air for a long, terrifying moment.

"Got what?"

Brian almost startles, having completely forgotten the presence of the other two beside him. Surely they are experiencing something very similar - in John's question he doesn't hear ignorance so much as denial, a glimmer of hope that Freddie won't give the dreaded answer.

But Brian knows it's coming. He's had his suspicions for some time, suspicions he's pushed away like he thinks they all must have done - Roger, John, the crew. He's seen their looks, heard their muttered words of concern.

_What's up with Freddie? He's not been right lately._

And what's ironic is that Freddie has always been the very picture of health and resilience. Sure, he'd get colds like everyone else and his voice would go occasionally, but they'd never had to cancel a performance because of it. Even after a night of drink and debauchery, Fred had always been chomping at the bit to perform again the next day. He was a consummate professional, and he didn't like disappointing the people who'd bought tickets to see Queen perform live. So he'd knock back some paracetamol and take a shot of whisky and not a single person in the audience would be any the wiser.

But Brian reads the newspaper, watches the news. He knows what this disease inevitably does to even the healthiest, strongest individual. His stomach plummets at the prospect and he tastes bitter bile at the back of his throat, feels tears pricking at his eyes.

_God, please. Not Freddie._

Brian May is not a man of faith, but this is a prayer he sends up without second thought, knowing it is in vain even before Freddie gives the answer that confirms their worst fears.

They all stand there like stricken, Brian realizes, speechless and reeling from the impact of what Freddie's just told them. In the periphery of his vision, he sees Jim Beach, who has his head bowed - perhaps because he can't bear to see their faces or wants to give them some semblance of privacy. _He already knew._

"Fred... I'm so sorry-" Brian stammers, inwardly despairing at how woefully inadequate those words really are. A lyricist he may be, but in the face of this he finds himself utterly incapable of conveying the full depth of what he feels. Thankfully, Freddie saves him before any more powerless platitudes tumble out of his mouth, setting the record straight right from the start.

Freddie Mercury is no victim. Freddie Mercury has no use for anyone's pity, and they better get it through to their heads right here and now. He has work to do, and a curtailed amount of time to do it in. _Let's get on with it_ , seems to be his simple request to them.

It boggles Brian's mind how calm Freddie is given the circumstances. How he is so strong about it that it is he who bolsters and comforts them instead of the other way around. But then, it isn't the first time he's been left astonished by this puzzle of a man and he's sure it won't be the last either.

They come together in a hug, Roger unusually pale-faced and quiet, John unable to look any of them in the eye. They're fighting back tears, all three of them, but for just this once, Freddie can forgive that. "I still love you," he tells them, and Brian would have returned the sentiment if he felt he could trust his voice right now. ( _How many times has he said these words to Freddie in his lifetime? Should he have said them more often?_ ) He squeezes his shoulder instead, strokes his hair, feeling utterly helpless, but Freddie's smile reassures him it's enough. One final time, he squeezes them all close in what is a rare and moving moment of togetherness. Even without another word being said, it is understood by the band that this is the first and only time Freddie's condition warrants a mention - it will not be talked about again. Not outside of this room, not outside of this tiny circle of people. Not even to their closest family and loved ones. Instinctively, they all know that this is how it will be from now on. They are now joined together in a silent, sacred pact, one they will honor until the very end. One with a very clear objective.

_Protect Freddie._

In spite of everything, Brian can feel that thought strengthening him somewhat. Putting steel into his spine. If nothing else, he can make sure, from his end, that Freddie's privacy is secured, his name upheld. The slandering media that Freddie so despises will be looking to make a dime out of this, to smear Freddie's reputation as a person and a musician - the thought makes Brian sick to the teeth, and he vows, right then and there, that they will not succeed. Not on his watch.

"Right, enough of this," Freddie announces, and he looks around at all three of them, tutting reproachfully at their sad faces. "Where is this pub Roger was talking about? Let's go find it and drink it. Miami's paying - aren't you, darling?"

"What makes you think I have the funds, Fred?"

Freddie laughs - a sound that, somehow, always, makes everything seem all right - and answers with his usual grandiosity. "You're managing the best fucking rock band in the world, dear - that's why!"


End file.
